Fanfiction In Motion
by TFFA
Summary: TFFA are delighted to announce the first annual FANFICTION IN MOTION competition.  Whether you be an author already or you want to be, check out our blog for details.
1. Welcome!

**TFFA'S - "FanFiction In Motion"**

We have selected 3 different pieces of music that we believe offer inspiration and evoke emotions. We invite you use one of these pieces of music to set your O/S to, hence the In Motion. _(links to the music are on profile and webpage)_

We have chosen these pieces of music specifically for this purpose, however if the emotion or thought evoked is Katy Perry's Boobs exploding, go with it…..

Now all you have to do is write a O/S to the song you chose. Anything goes. Just has to be Twilight and we have to be able to listen to the song you chose and feel like you wrote your O/S to that song. You can use any character, it does not matter if they are vamp or human.

**The When:** All entries must be Beta'd and sent to tffa by** January, 5th of 2011**. Once we get them we will upload them onto under our contest page and leave out the author name. All stories will remain anonymous until the winner is announced. Anonymity can be retained after competition closes if requested.

The top of your story entry should look like this.

TFFA FanFiction in Motion Contest(This should also be on the subject line of your email.)

Title of story

Song you chose (how many times we gotta listen to it to the get the full effect) but we don't what to have to hit replay a million times

Your Pin Name

Characters

Summery

We will take entries when ever you are done. Voting starts starts **January**, **10th - 15th of 2011.** Winner announced the **16th**.

**The Prize: Mad love and adoration from us, as well as a custom banner for your O/S and possibly (if Cracky ain't in a rare mood, one for one of your other stories). Mad pimping out from us...trust us, thats a lot. **

**There is more information to follow so regularly check our profile and our contests page for more details!**

As always your time and efforts do not go unappreciated by TFFA and our admin team.

**TFFA**

_To perv and serve_

***Disclaimer****: **Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. All intellectual properties associated with _each one shot _belong to the fan fiction author. Plagiarism is theft. No copying or reproduction of any of these works is permitted without express written authorization. Thank you.

This competition is **rated M**, and for good reason. Not all stories are canon pairings; there will be a mixture of canon, slash, etc...As well, each individual story may be human and some may not, it depends on the author.

Terms and conditions

-Entries may be vampy, Canon, AU, AH and any genre (e.g., angst, humor, family, suspense).

-Entries must be rated appropriately. But will all be posted with an M rating

-Any and all pairings accepted. Any rating accepted.

-Collaborations are welcome.

-Please have your story beta'd. We encourage any author with need for a beta to check out Project Team Beta.

-Limit of ONE ENTRY per author.

-Entries must be a new story.

-We're cool with expansion of one-shots after the fact, but please keep in mind that one-shots are judged largely on their ability to exist solely as a one-shot.

-Authors can choose to request to remain anonymous even after the competition has closed, we respect that this might be some authors first attempt at this and we wish to allow you all privacy and respect possible while encouraging you to give it a go!

-Winners are selected by popular vote, but no pimping of your story, if we catch wind of that in any way the entry will be disqualified

NB: only one member of the admin team is going to be aware of what story belongs to what author, please do not divulge to any of the admin team what story is yours!

By submitting an entry into that competition you agree to all mentioned above.

Terms and conditions are subject to change at TFFA's discretion, please check our Facebook page regularly for any information!

Any questions? **NO**. Fantastic!

In all seriousness all queries need to be directed to our inbox or email, subject link Fanfiction in Motion please.


	2. Entry 1  Her Kiss

**Title: Her Kiss**

**Song Choice: Mt Eden Dubstep - Beautiful Lies x 1**

**Characters: Bella**

**Summary: Bella, distraught and heart broken, returns to her private dance studio to lose herself in the rhythm until one of her fellow dancers arrive and she gives in completely to love.**

* * *

The persistent hardness of the rain masks the tears streaming down her face from passerby as she exits the cab and runs towards the awl-covered walkway leading to the entrance. She makes her way quickly to the elevators as she once again tries to regain control of the pain quaking through her tattered heart. The doors open and she slips into the mercifully empty elevator and prays that her strength will hold out during the eighteen floor trip to her studio. She shuts her eyes tightly and bites down on her lip as she grips the smooth golden bar that is mounted to the mirrored wall behind her. The familiar cold metal giving her a sense of comfort. The ding of the doors opening again causes her to startle and exhale a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Quickly, she walks down to the last door in the hallway and with unbelievably sturdy hands inserts the key in the door and lets herself in. She takes a moment to glance around the dark studio, taking in the beauty of the dim light streaming in through the high windows across the wooden floors and bouncing off the mirrors that lined the three main walls. This was home.

She wipes her cheeks dry of any remaining tears and straightens her back with new determination. She drops her bag and jacket by the door as she kicks off her chucks and grabs the little silver remote resting alone on the entry table. With a single click the lights slowly rise to a soft glow. With another click the sound of the speakers coming to life pierces the air. She sets the remote back down and glides to the center of the room, giving herself just a brief glance in the mirror before the beginning notes of music filter out of the speakers. Her eyes close automatically as she rolls her neck and shoulders to loosen up as one last sob escapes her throat. She begins to sway to the gentle music. Twirling and dipping gracefully, she lets the music carry her away.

Suddenly she feel soft fingertips softly trace across her lower back and she knows who it is. Then they are moving together. Perfect rhythm. Fingers are grazing down bodies. Lingering. Wanting. And they are just so close. The warmth of her breath and her intoxicating scent... it's overwhelming. A tear begins to fall but is swiftly wiped away.

"He did it again?"

She nods.

"I won't ever hurt you."

"I know."

Their lips meet softly. Testing, tasting, teasing. Brushing aside a lock of her hair to lick the delectable spot on her neck. They have waited so long. They have fought so hard. And now, slowly... slowly...

Hands continue to roam as clothing is discarded where they stand. Full, perky breasts heaving in anticipation as a tongue darts out to trace a slow circle around a pert nipple before being sucked into the warm mouth. Slow, hot kisses down across a chest, a stomach, and heat. Sweet heat. Moans mingle with the melody as backs arch and fingers plunge deep. A quiet gasp and a tightening of hair. Exploring, giving, taking... until they are rocking together. Their lips find one another again. Tongues caressing, moving in time with their bodies until they are a quivering heap on the floor. And they hold on. They hold on. Mouth to mouth, saying everything without saying a word.

The sky begins to lighten and the first golden rays of morning shine through the windows and across pale skin. She rolls over and places a soft kiss on plump limps and looks into the most beautiful set of chocolate brown eyes.

"I love you, Bella."

Bella reaches down to tuck a stray hair behind her ear before gazing into the stormy gray eyes of her best friend, and now, her lover.

"I love you too, Alice."


	3. Entry 2 Perfectly Dead

**T****wilight FanFic Addicts  
FanFiction in Motion Contest**

**Title: **Perfectly Dead  
**Characters: **Bella/Edward  
**Rating: **T  
**Summary: **Why go on when the future is lost, your dreams broken in two just like your heart? Shattered. Dead. Why live when there is nothing left to live for?

**Song: **Mt Eden Dubstep – Beautiful lies  
The first 25 seconds are my inspiration, but  
the rest is just as contributing. I bet you  
can guess what scene I had in mind  
when I wrote this.  
Five times and you have your mood right, I'd say.

**Disclaimer****  
**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, and all rights go to her. All lines drawn from  
Twilight and New Moon are also hers (duh!) and is NOT my writing.  
I make no profit of this story.

Also, ideas have come from Blondie aka Robin and her story "Dark Side of the Moon."  
Read it and you'll realize what I've 'borrowed' – with permission of course.

**Warning****  
**This story contains the subject of suicide and some minor foul  
language. Anyone uncomfortable with this is advised to leave.

Advice: Read in ½ page…

**ტ**

_Life is cruel, life is horrific, life is sad. __  
But we live it in the hopes of good times,  
good people, good experiences. If those  
things are removed from our lives, we  
remove ourselves from life itself. As for  
her, she lost her life a long time ago,  
but life is not made to live dead._

His image is imprinted in the walls, the air, the rocking chair. The memory of him sitting in the corner is obvious and torturous, taunting my every waking hour. Rocking back and forth, humming quietly as I sleep; it's a good made bad. A happy made sad. A love broken in two. My half gone, with him.

Even awake I live in a nightmare, seeing him walking beside me, towards me, away from me, always walking in some way. His shirt brisling open in the wind, arms cold and pale against any color he wears. His hair lifting ever so slightly; appearing as copper, bronze, and golden in the light. Eyes darkening with lust, love, famish. The Devil Walk.

The same image haunts my bedroom, only he is crouching in the window, stepping to the floor gracefully, his smile bright like the sun. An Adonis. A Greek God of wrath and destruction, turning cruel with fangs and blood dripping from his chin. His hair is blonde, his is face different, and it is his brother hunting me down and draining me in my sleep.

I wake up screaming every time, my heart beating rapidly in my chest, yearning to break out and flee from my soul.

Despite the dreams, I don't hold grudge or blame. Jasper wasn't at fault that night. How could I hold spite against him when he was only doing what came natural to him?

"_It was exactly what was to be expected."_

_Hunt them, drink them, kill them, bury them._

That was supposed to be me, even from the start. The cold ones crave my blood the strongest, if not one brother then the other.

_Slay me, drain me._

And yet, _les Deux démons belle_follow me around, one conscious – one unconscious. Both making my life miserable. I am no masochist, I get no pleasure from the pain they give me, there is only hollowness. Which is the strongest sort of pain.

I can't handle pain, not even a scrape on my knee, a splinter in my finger. So my choice isn't strange at all. Why live in pain that won't stop? Continuous. Eternal. Like him. How twisted and ironic life must be. The sickest sense of humor. And I am the jester on strings.

_Alice, _

_I still miss you, I still see you in my sleep.  
Where are you?  
Please come back to me. _

_Bella. _

*System failure - message not delivered.*

**ტ**

"Don't look for her, Alice. Please, for me."

"She's my sister."

"And she's _my _life. So please, listen to me just this once. For me."

"You're the most selfish creature on earth, Edward. You only want to keep your own mind free of guilt if she gets hurt, but you're not the cause of it!"

"Not the cause! If it wasn't for me she'd never be in harm's way! How do you explain James almost killing her, or Victoria's allegiance to her mate making her thirsty for blood? The survivor gets revenge, Alice."

"So that's what you're going to do, get revenge?"

"An eye for an eye, Alice. A mate for a mate. She won't get near her. I won't let her."

"And when that is done, what of Bella? She'll get old and die, what then?"

"Then I have nothing left to live for."

**ტ**

I am the outcast, the plague roaming the halls silently, ignored but noticed. They see me, but they don't _see _me. I want to be seen, but not by them, not by the people who for months have tried to reach me but failed in their attempts.

5 missed calls.

6 text messages.

Vibrating – singing – fading into the background.

My phone is silent, not even Charlie calls me anymore.

Of course not, he knows where I am at all times. My bed, my desk, the kitchen, the living room. Where else do I need to go? I sleep, I do homework, I cook, I watch TV with my father. Rinse and repeat. The sun sets and rises with my unwritten schedule imprinted in my brain. Speak only when needed to – _"Bella, the answer to question five?" _– and let time fly. Or crawl, depends on the day.

Some days it nice; the sky so dark and gloomy, brooding, clouds huddled together in a thick cloth above me. No rain, no drizzle, just darkness. Yet other days the pain is severe; the sun blazing and the snow glistening, reminding me so much of him.

What would he have wanted for Christmas?

A stolen kiss beneath the mistletoe?

New Years, our resolutions to be together, better than ever?

Midnight striking, my breath staggered from his cold kisses?

Would that have been heaven?

'Cause without it there is surely only hell.

Purgatory.

But there is routine, a comfort that soothes my days when my thoughts are not centered on his being. His _life. _He said that was me, once. Alas, I concentrate on school; the work, not the people. I get an A in Calculus and Charlie takes me out to the diner. Steak and cobbler – routine. Comfort. He speaks briefly about work, but it's Fork and not much to tell. A few missing hunters in the woods, presumably taken by the large wolves appearing in the area.

The rest of the time is silent, tense, he doesn't know how to handle this. Me. My behavior.

He threatens to send me to Florida – sun, diamonds, sparkles. No! I beg, plead, kick and scream.

"Please Ch-dad, please don't. Not now."

"He's not coming back, Bells."

"I – I know, it's not that. It's school, I can't leave my friends. Not during Senior year."

"What friends, Bella? You don't return a single call from Angela, you don't go out, and have fun or anything. When is the last time you talked to Jacob, anyways? The kid misses you."

"I have friends. I, with my job and schoolwork…I've been busy."

"No one's that busy."

"Jessica invited me to go shopping. Prom."

"Who are you taking?"

No one.

"Tyler Crowley. He, eh, asked me."

Red cheeks, embarrassment, and lies.

Tyler didn't ask me, not this year, but last year, when I went with… _him. _

"Crowley, eh? Good kid, good parents."

I ask Jessica to go shopping and she's stunned and reluctant. Does she remember last year? It's a year since the last time I ever really went out with her, anyone for that matter, 'cause I was with _him _once I found out.

"_Say it. Out loud."_

"_Vampire."_

Inseparable back then. Eating, sleeping, school, and afternoons; all in his presence. Summer with the Cullens; hikes to a lake up north, my face buried in his neck, and wind and time and speed was left behind us. What would've taken days took mere hours, and he still won over the others. Even with me as extra weight.

Swimming, diving, sunbathing. Laughing and smiling as the sun shined down upon us. Me as the odd ball out: the only one without beauty or shimmers. Rosalie highlighted in diamonds, even Emmett appearing as another Sun God despite his natural lethal appearance. They were all so magnificent, but in all it didn't faze me as long _he _was by my side.

Back then, happy times, he said he'd never leave me. He promised.

Or so I thought.

Port Angeles is too outdated for Jess' taste, so we go to Seattle. A weekend trip with the girls; staying at a three-star hotel down town, Lauren – Angela – Jessica – Me. Lauren, of course, hates me even more now that I've stolen her 'date'. They were never together, and I applied mascara one day, wore fitted clothes instead of my bags. I'm thinner, I can see it too, and the boys seem to like it.

I don't give a damn what they think.

But I was on a mission to please Charlie, and the only way was to follow their standards.

He was too eager to say yes, grinning like a fool and talking details.

Don't mess with me Tyler Crowley, though you haven't noticed me – I've noticed you. Heard you.

"I bet she's tight as fuck."

"Hah, Cullen's probably stretched her out. _Asshole."_

"Oh yeah, that's right, think she's too uptight to take it up the ass?"

**ტ**

Animals are much more enjoyable than humans – not in taste but in mind. They don't _think _like us, they just act. Kill, eat, sleep, and reproduce. That is what they do. It's a simple life with no complaints.

I do not complain.

My needs are simple.

_Find__ her. _

_Kill her. _

I am an animal.

Carlisle would reprimand me for my thoughts, telling me I am not evil, I'm not bad, I am a good son. I do not hurt people.

Eighty five, Carlisle, I've hurt eighty-five people. Killed them for my own satisfaction. My own playtime pretending to be God and punishing demons. Murderers, rapists, kidnappers, pedophiles.

They were evil, and to remove them I became evil as well.

That never went away, and now I am back to evil, but this time the end justifies the means even more; Victoria will die so that _she _can stay safe.

**ტ**

_Alice, _

_I miss our talks. No one can compare to your chirpiness  
and no one amuses me like you do. Where are you? Come  
back to me, please, even if it's just for a second, so I can  
see you. See that it's real. You have to be real, Alice, or  
else _he _won't be real, just an imprint of his image, his  
ghost. Come back, or I'll know I'm truly insane. _

_Come back to me. _

_Bella. _

*System failure - message not delivered.*

I don't sleep in Seattle; I'm too nervous and too embarrassed to let my eyes close. Only little kids have bad dreams, I'm not supposed to. Not supposed to wake up screaming and sweating and panting, jerking away from all human touch.

Charlie takes pills to sleep now, but I can't drug Angela. I have the pills though, stacked away in my bag for safe keeping. I can use them on myself if it gets too much, but I don't know if they'll work and I don't want to take that chance.

Lauren gets a blood-red strapless that only stays up due to her breast enhancement; a fact I know solely because she bragged about it on the way there – that is also how I know her god-awful bob is an agent's idea for making her noticed.

_If her nose doesn't do the tric__k then what the hell can a hairdo do? _

_Or maybe that's next on the list for the plastic surgeon. _

Jessica picks out spaghetti straps, deep pink, layers, making her chest appear more…well, more. "Do my boobs look good in this?" We all nod, and she makes her way back to the dressing rooms.

Next up is Angela, who again is going with Ben Cheney. They've gone steady for a year now and I'm happy for her, even though I know the catalyst for their relationship. It leaves a bitter taste in my mouth and frowns my smile, but I hold strong and listen to her whenever she talks about him.

Lavender, no heels, and her hair down, that is what we decide for her, _for her_ we are kind and smile and laugh and nod. She really is beautiful, heels or not.

"Now for you, Bella."

"I, eh, I didn't pick out anything."

"Wasn't it you who wanted to go shopping in the first place?"

I relent, and pick out something without looking at it. Then I hate it while they love it, even Lauren spearing me a snide yet encouraging compliment. _Beautiful... Great contrast against your skin... I wish I had complexion like yours… Surprisingly, it actually looks good on you…_

They make me buy it and bag it, and it's burning coal in my hand as I walk with it, wear it, parade it.

I take a sleeping pill while Angela is in the bathroom, just one, and drift off to sleep so fast from the day's activities.

"_Don't worry. You're human – you memory is no more than a sieve. Time heals all wounds for your kind."_

"_And your memories?"_

"_Well – I don't forget. But, _my _kind … we're very easily distracted. _

_The scene changes, and I'm scared in the darkness. Hyena sounding laughs surround me, tease me. _

_You're not enough. _

_You're forgettable. _

_You're nothing. _

_A distraction. _

_He doesn't want you. _

"Bella, Bella, wake up!"

My throat burns and clogs and wrecks, my scream curling my blood and freezing all other sound in the room. The light is lit and I am not alone – for now, at least – and I'm stared at. Angela is holding me, cuddling me, calming me, and the others are scared of me. Of what I am, how I am.

They are clad in flannel, like me, but being everything I am not.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Lauren.

"Ssssshhh" Angela coos in my ear, patting my head and lets me cry against her shoulder until I'm all dried up and the two most gossipy girls at school have left our room. Everyone will know about my mistake; my screaming in my sleep, and Charlie will hear.

He'll send me back to Florida.

"Ssssh, Bella, I'm not going anywhere" Angela states as we lay down on the mattress, her arms still around me.

"I didn't think otherwise."

She sighs. "You were chanting; _don't leave me_"

And now the thought of Florida doesn't seem so bad. For a second only, before remembering. There's a possibility, isn't there? He can come back, and I will let him, as long as he comes back.

The drive home is silent, and I feel like I'm being watched. Lauren and Jessica sit in the front seat taking turns driving, while Angela and I reside in the back. None of us are asked to drive; Angela without a license, and me not considered mentally stable to handle a heavy vehicle.

The dress hangs on my closet that night, and I stare at it, contemplating utter destruction. Fire. Scissors. Bare hands ripping. But that would be half a month's paycheck gone to waste, and prom is just around the corner.

That night is horrible and Charlie bursts into my room at one point, saying it's worse than ever, "I'm calling Dr. Gerandy", before I talk him out of it. It's not needed, it was just a bad dream. Finally he gets up to leave, glancing at my closet.

"You picked it out for prom?"

"Yes."

"Blue looks good on you."

_That's what he said too. _

**ტ**

"Edward, please call me. Esme misses you, we all do. It's not the same anymore."

If she could, my sister would cry real tears. Weep. Sob. But it's all dry over the phone, her message a month old and I realize it's May. I still haven't completed my mission.

I'm a failure.

"_Hello, Edward."_

"Bella," I breathe into the wind, standing on the mountain top with eagle eye.

"_I love you, Edward."_

"Please, go away, stop taunting me."

"_You said you'd never leave me, Edward. Did you stop loving me?"_

"Never, Bella, I'll never stop loving you. Please."

Her image is strong and beautiful, yet only a reflection mirroring her. A ghost almost. She's not there, I need to tell myself this a thousand times. She's not real, she's not there.

I'm just crazy, seeing what I've left behind haunting me as I crawl and run over rock and dirt and grass. I see her following me, running alongside me through the evergreen that becomes thick and foggy and soggy.

Red catches my eyes and Bella smiles.

"_Go get her, make me proud. Kill for me, before she kills me."_

**ტ**

Despite Charlie's attempts for me to further my socializing, I do not reach out to Jacob, nor does he to me. I have seen him once, only once, walking through the woods. For recreational purposes only, I promise, I wanted to see if it would hurt less if I saw _him _somewhere there were only happy memories.

That is not my bedroom – where he let me indulge in his lips that one time more than he ever had before, only to push me away further. Neither is it Port Angeles – where the remnant of my almost-attack still flows through my veins in cold blood while walking the streets.

There is only one place I could think of that held no pain, until I brought it there. Until I ventured for hours stumbling, tripping, falling, scraping, becoming almost paralyzed as the familiarity of my actions hit me in the head like a hard rock. Almost giving up, I'd fallen right into it.

Into death.

Into loss.

Into a meadow filled with absolutely nothing, nothing, just me.

And Laurent.

"_Lie."_

He wanted me to lie for him, protect myself – _don't do anything reckless, for Charlie of course – _so I lied. But to what use? Laurent was on a mission as well, to find me and turn me over to Victoria.

_She's here?_

"You are absolutely…mouthwatering."

The wind picked up and my hair twisted around my face, my trees behind me parting for bears, wolves, creatures, bigger than anything I'd ever seen in my entire life. One stuck out from the pack; russet with coal black eyes. Eyes I'd seen looking at me with the same worry as then.

Jacob.

So now he's ignoring me, like I am him, because I know what he is and I don't want to be a part of it. What good could ever come of running with werewolves? More pain. More broken hearts. More people leaving me.

_Alice, _

_No matter where I go I find traces of your existence.  
Even in the life I had before you, in my father's life,  
I find you. Stop haunting me, just come back to me. _

_Miss you,  
Bella. _

*System failure - message not delivered*

Laurent is dead, that much did Jacob tell me. He wasn't alone though, Jacob; he had his pack with him, flanking his sides as he spoke curt and cold, not like the boy I used to know. He is a man now, broad chest and full of muscles, hot to the touch when I stumbled into him.

His friends called me Vampire Girl – my insides turned cold and vast, before crumbling into ashes from the burning pain.

"When is that boy showing up?"

"That boy, dad? A few weeks ago he was good people, now he's _that boy_?"

"You know what I mean. Crowley, when's he coming over?"

"In an hour."

"Shouldn't you get dressed, then?"

Though fashion is not my forte I do have the genetic gene that allows me to know when something is good or bad. This dress is beautiful. Just looking at it brings tears to my eyes, but I hesitate to put it on. The skirt flows over my thighs and ends below my knee cap, the bust flattering without being overpowering, and with the black one-inch heels Jessica had forced me to buy, I know I look good.

"_I love this color on you" _he states from behind me, his hands hovering over my hips and his head above my shoulder. His eyes are closed, content, beautifully peaceful, and he's the man I fell in love with.

His eyes open and meet mine in the mirror – and I know I'm awake, or so I hope – and they are red. Crimson. Blood. His hair is blonde and his name is Jasper, and his razor sharp teeth break the tender flesh of my neck.

The party has come to an end and I'm lying on the floor bleeding out, and six eyes go from topaz to cardinal. They're lethal, predators, and I am alone and weak against their strength.

I shake my head, and the image is gone, and Charlie is standing in the doorway, the mirror reflecting his concerned frown.

"You okay there, Bells?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Tyler's downstairs waiting."

"Thank you, dad."

**ტ**

"_Estou com fome__"_

A thought, not my own, craving for food. It's a small girl with long black hair; filthy and dirty, her body thin and malnourished to the brink of death.

"_Eu quero minha mãe."_

She's crying as well, wanting her mother, quivering as a breeze swift through. She's lost in the jungle, starving and scared. What would Carlisle do? He'd help the child, which I do, picking her up as she sleeps and run back to her village.

I am not seen.

Time doesn not faze me when I run, when I hunt, only knowing day from night by seeing the sun. And yet here, in Brazil, there is too much sun for me to be public. Fortunately, my prey is like me, confined to the shadows and darkness to avoid awareness.

She doesn't want to die, I want her to, but to do that I can't be seen or else I'll die as well.

"_Look at yourself, your eyes are too dark. How many weeks has it been this time?"_

"Too long, love."

"_Run."_

**ტ**

Prom is what prom is. It's awkward pictures in front of the mantel for Charlie who documents everything quite nervously, it's the corsage and Tyler's matching tie, it's his parents requesting pictures at their house as well. Oooh, Tyler, you're such a big boy with your mother pinching your cheeks and straightening your tie. She's so proud of you. Would she think the same if she knew the real reason you're taking me?

Lauren of course had told everyone of my incident in Seattle, hoping Tyler would dump me in favor for her. If he'd done it, I would have felt no pain. I would have lied to Charlie and said I was going with some girls instead, going stag. But he stayed put, to my complete and utter surprise.

Until I heard – Tyler Crowley had booked a room at the Forks Motel!

Shame on you. You think I will put out.

A fleeting and menacing thought enters my mind as he takes my hand and walk in to the gym decorated in balloons and papier-mâché – _maybe I should put out. _

But no, my soul and half-heart pushes the thought away in disgust. I keep on to my so called virtue tonight, I don't even let him kiss me on the cheek, because his lips will be too cold and too callous.

_His _kisses were perfect, and no one will ever fit the standards he's set.

It's prom, it's nerves, and it's complete and utter distaste from my side.

"_You should be in a good mood, today of all days."_

I don't dance, and Tyler makes his way to Lauren who sends me a victorious grin.

Take him, I really don't want him.

I only want one.

And he doesn't want me.

_Distraction._

_Fleeting._

_Nothing. _

Jasper is vicious in my dreams again, parting my head from my body, the blood gushing from my neck. But _his _words, _his _image, is what makes me scream and squirm and shout for him to _please don't leave me, please, please, come back to me!_

The pain is too much; no words Charlie provides can comfort me.

The pain is just too much, and I am not a masochist.

"_You promised you wouldn't do anything reckless."_

I stare at him, his face distraught and transparent, but pale and sad. How can a person so destructive be so beautiful?

"You don't want me, and I don't want anyone else."

"_Please, Bella..." _Hearing him saying my name so tenderly, pleading me to reconsider, it pushes me over the edge.

"Goodbye, _Edward,_" I whisper his name for the first time since he left me.

**ტ**

Loneliness has never felt so…good. It's the sound of birds in the distance, the leaves brushing against each other, a river a mile from here attracting the wild life. It's quiet, serene, and it's a fire in front of me turning body parts into ashes.

There's relief, reassurance, peace, and Victoria is finally gone.

There is no further threat to my love, and I can stop running.

But then I realize, where is she? Her voice that has haunted me, taunted me, pestered me to keep going, has disappeared. She was at my side when I caught up with Victoria, I saw her angelic face as I crouched and leaped, tackling the vampire to the ground and fought, bit and grabbed any limb I could get my hands on.

Yet, now, nothing.

No sound.

And loneliness turns…lonely.

The fire is high, black smoke rising to the coal black sky with twinkling stars aligned perfectly geometrically.

"_Goodbye, _Edward."

Her voice is so clear, crystal, bells chiming beautifully, but holding so much sorrow. Her voice, her essence, her body, is standing in the flickering flames, watching me with a sad expression. Broken, reflecting me. But her words are splitting my dead heart, crushing it with each breath.

Goodbye.

It sounds so final.

The fire continues, her image evaporates, and I fall to my knees. It hurts, it kills, I cry out in pain. I feel like I'm drowning, gasping for breath which I don't need. My insides are on fire, but the real fire is in front of me, blazing and red and golden. Then why is it I who hurt? I who feel the scorching pain?

"_Bella_," I choke. "No."

**ტ**

"You okay for today, Bells?"

I nod. It's Sunday, and being alone while Charlie goes fishing is nothing new. It's expected, it's routine. And he knows it too, used to coming home to a clean house and cooked food. He lives without complications, ignoring my retreating demeanor.

"Goodbye, hon."

"Goodbye, dad."

He halts on the threshold, but doesn't turn around. I stand in the window waving goodbye to him as he pulls out, and he returns the gesture with an unsure hand. The cruiser rounds the corner and out of my peripheral, and I sigh.

The work ahead of me is tremendous; my final good act for Charlie.

I dust, I vacuum, I lift the couch and move dressers, and I balance on chairs and counter tops to reach the furthest corners. A bucket list follows me around the house, a cloth and Windex in both hands.

Although I've only lived in this house for a year, it seems fitting to leave it like I met it. Spotless, from my own doing.

I grunt, I groan, I wince as an ant bites my finger.

The basement, Charlie, have you ever even _looked _inside it?

Dust bunnies and spotted tigers, fighting me all over.

By the time I stand, swiping my hands over my clam forehead and admire the view, it's close to dusk outside. But Charlie won't be home for hours, I reckon, as Billy has just bought a new flat screen – two inches bigger than Charlie's! – and he has a satellite dish.

The Mariners are playing tonight.

I hope they win.

At least he'll have some good memory from today, years from now.

My room remains much the same, although I tidy the bed and arrange my things neatly in the closet. I throw away paper and scribbles, writing I don't want Charlie to see.

_Alice, _

_I love you and I always will.  
Look after him for me. _

_Goodbye__,  
Bella. _

*System failure - message not delivered*

I delete the messages and the email account, destroying all evidence of them ever existing.

My car rumbles to life in a heart-warming manner, memories of my first ride in it so clear and happy.

Dusk has fallen, and twilight lives.

"_Twilight. Another ending. No matter how perfect the day is, it always has to end."_

I am counting on this, albeit the day has not been perfect, rather tainted with sorrow.

I pass the sign welcoming me back to Forks, population three thousand one-hundred and twenty – soon to be three thousand one-hundred and nineteen. A little over a year ago I passed this sign on the other side, gloomy and brooding over the turn of my life. Now I leave it behind me in resignation and relief, content with my resolution.

Beside me sits the catalyst – but not the reason – of my demise.

"I forgive you, Jasper."

He nods - his spirit fading away from me as fast as it showed.

For me, giving forgiveness is second nature, something I've always done. I wonder if it will be given to me just as easily after today.

In March, I once drove Charlie to the Reservation when his cruiser was in the shop, but needed the truck for further shopping that day. I had almost driven into the mountain wall when I saw some boys jumping off the cliffs. Charlie, being a responsible cop, said cliff diving was reckless and stupid, that it could get them killed.

"_Don't do anything reckless."_

If he knew he gave me my ending idea that day, he'd die of guilt, but on the kitchen table is a note explaining everything – everything I can tell without betraying the Cullens. Carlisle is still a man I hold dearly in respect, and to end his life for exposure would be evil. No, I've written my farewell, my love for my father.

There is one for my mother as well.

My final _goodbye t_o her over the phone last night just wasn't enough.

The sky is golden and peach when I park the truck off track from the road. It darkens as I walk through the thin patch of forest, and the evening is frisk and chill as I pass the line from trees to bare land.

The ocean is strong and uneasy, its waves crashing against the cliff with monstrous power overwhelming me. White, blue, dark. It's a heap of teal mixed with cobalt, and it is gloriously terrifying.

I can't swim, but thinking about it makes me laugh. Who's planning on swimming here?

A rush of wind catches onto my dress and drags me closer to the edge, the tips of my toes digging into the earth. I almost lose my balance and fall backwards, landing on my back and knocking the air out of me.

"_You're a magnet for accidents."_

"Shut up."

"_Don't be foolish, Isabella, don't do this."_

"It's the only way I can think of…to be with you."

"_Step back, Bella, love, please don't."_

He's glorious as always, his image so strong now and I hate my mind for making him like this. Why does he have to be so perfect? Why couldn't I be the same? Why couldn't I have been enough for him?

"No," I push, and stand to my feet, dusting the dirt from the dress. It's not tainted from other hands, Tyler Crowley never fully touched my dress, and so I see it fitting for this occasion. He did say it was his favorite color on me. Back when we were happy.

"You don't get to tell me what to do anymore. You don't get to protect me. You don't get to decide my faith or my life. This is me, this is me without you."

I cry, my cheeks puffing with red – another thing he claimed to love about me – but I am not angry. I do not hate him. Despite everything, I can't hold anything against him.

"_Edward,_" I whisper, "_goodbye."_

Then I lift up into the wind, flying, soaring, falling.

Water crashes around me, swirling with bubbles and waves, and I am blinded until it calms around me. I sink, my vision blurring.

Before everything goes black, all I see is him.

**ტ**

Push.

Run.

Faster.

Faster.

Through days, through hours, minutes, seconds.

I am the fastest.

I have to be the fastest.

To get to her.

I feel her pain in my bones, paralyzing my soul.

I have a soul, Carlisle, I'm sure of it now, and it's connected to hers.

Desert turns to concrete, concrete turns to moss.

Green, brown, all around me.

I'm here.

She's not.

Her house is vacant, but her scent is strong.

Mere hours since she left.

I follow it, stopping only once when I reach the treaty line. But to hell with it, I cannot be stopped now. To hell with my life, I have to save hers.

The marks from the truck leave the main road, disappearing into the thick forest and I fear the worst.

Her scent lessens.

The cliff is right there, below me only water.

Dark and deep.

_Gone. _

"Bella!" I cry. "No, no, no" I sob and wreck and twist.

She's gone, and with her my life, my love, my reason to live.

I once thought up a plan to end my existence if this day would come, but the wolves closing in on me, have made this so much easier.

Bella. Lovely, beautiful Bella.

Why?

I've failed, I haven't keep her safe.

Limb torn, sharp bites, cutting stone flesh.

Burn, burn, burn.

Ashes.

_I love you. _

**-****ტ****-****ტ****-****ტ****-**

_Love is grand, love is eternal, love is a whole split in__to two.  
Two parts of the same, bound to search until they find each other.  
This love is no different, but once whole it was broken again.  
The two parts could not survive on their own.  
Reunited in a place beyond earth,  
they exist  
forever. _

He knows this place; he has seen it a million times before. In mind, in spirit, and in body. But it has changed, for the better. The flowers are alive, violet and blue, honey and strawberries coloring meadow. There is only light, not a single shadow cascading from the stretching oaks.

It's a familiar place.

It's _their _place.

In the center stands a girl, her long brown hair cascading down her back as her head tilts back to see the clear sky.

She's been waiting.

He walks towards her, gentle and silent steps on the soft grass folding easily beneath his bare feet. It's a strange emotion, but powerful all the same. The sun blinds him momentarily as he reaches her, and he touches her shoulder with a nervous hand.

"Edward?"

"Hello, Bella."

"You came back to me."

"I could never stay away from you."

They are silent, eyes appraising one another lovingly. To him, she looks more beautiful than she ever has; ivory skin flawless and radiating, contrasted against her hair that appears a viral of chestnut, chocolate, mahogany, and umber. Her body is lean and curvy, highlighted by her dress cascading like a waterfall.

As for her, she sees him as a new man; scruffy and flawed in the most perfect way.

"Your eyes are green."

"My human color.

"Where are we?"

"As long as I'm with you, I don't care."

They both smile, crookedly with dimples showing. Both blush. Time doesn't exist at all, and they stand forever together.

Eventually they lie down, legs intertwined and nose touching, smiles and blushes in place, eyes glinting excitingly.

"You love me?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Forever," they unite.

**~Fin~**


	4. Entry 3 kyrie eleison

**Title of story: **_Kyrie Eleison_

**Song****: **_Requiem for a Dream remix (doryangrai dubstep remix)_

**(**_I advise to download the song and put it on replay, that's how I wrote this story._**)**

**Characters: **Bella

**Summary: **Isabella was the epitome of perfection for them. She let them own her time, her body and her pleasure. But who was the one that once owned her completely: body, mind, heart and soul?

**READ IN ½ PAGE, PLEASE.**

**

* * *

**

"_My heart is old it holds my memories_

_This heart it burns a gem like flame_

_Somewhere between the soul and soft machine_

_Is where I find myself again."_

oOoOoOo

The music was soft, dramatic and sensuous. I let it fill me, move me, transport me.

Every beat made me move a step closer to where I wanted to be. Every beat made me look better for him.

I was here for his entertainment, his visual entertainment.

I never got to feel the cold metal of his ring finger against my skin.

He never touched, just watched.

I didn't care; I was the one he chose. I was the one who captured his attention with the movement of my curves, with the sensuality of my dance, with one look of my eyes.

Here in the darkness of his home, the moonlight was my spotlight and the living room my stage.

And my audience was only one.

He looked regal from where he watched me in the leather armchair.

He was my God who I had to pay homage to with my body.

I danced only for him, just for tonight, just for him.

He was painfully beautiful, my golden God. His piercing blue-grey eyes showed his desire and lust, but he never acted upon them. He always held back. Every night I danced for him, but he never moved.

His eyes always followed my every step, he made me his, he devoured me just by looking at me.

The rich white silk that covered my body caressed my exposed skin as I let it drop to the floor.

I heard his intake of air when he saw me covered only in the exquisite white lace of my lingerie.

He loved seeing me in white lace.

His eyes were clearly shining with hunger and lust; they swept over my body igniting the fire in my veins.

The music continued as I danced only for him, just for tonight, just for him.

The beat changed, it was faster, and I moved with it. A slight sheen of sweat covered my ivory skin and made it shine and flush under the exertion of my passionate dance.

My hair flew over my shoulders as I turned around to face him, I gave him the cheekiest smile I could muster, and then I turned around again, lifted my arms to the sky and threw my head back.

I saw him smile.

I liked his smile.

"Isabella…" he whispered form his chair.

I knew what he wanted.

My golden God wanted to see me.

As the beat of the song slowed down, so did I.

I slowly took off the laced glove from my arm and dropped it to the floor.

It was killing him to have me so close, yet so far at the same time.

He enjoyed seeing me dance, but he truly loved seeing me bare for him.

But most of all, he needed to be tortured, teased and taunted.

That's why I danced for him.

And I was the only one he always called back for more.

Only me.

No one else.

I danced only for him, just for tonight, just for him.

oOoOoOo

The light breeze whispered through the tall grass and it enveloped me in its gentle touch, raising goose bumps over my skin.

He moaned and writhed beneath me, just like he liked it.

I never knew that spending time outdoors was going to become part of my routine.

But it did.

Today was warm, sunny and beautiful.

He rode all day under the sun and across the fields, my cowboy.

But I was the one to ride him today.

"Be-lla," he groaned as he noticed me slowing down my pace.

His big and calloused hands were planted on my hips to guide me, never to dominate me, never to set the pace.

No, my cowboy liked to relinquish the control of our dance.

I controlled him, only me, for today.

"God damn it, Bella!" my cowboy yelled when I roughly impaled myself on his manhood only to go back to the slow dance.

He was beautiful.

He was a southern gent.

He never forgot to bring me flowers.

But I loved to watch the hot-blooded cowboy scream my name in ecstasy - just like he was now, with a light sheen of sweat covering his toned body.

He was magnificent beneath me.

His corn silk hair hung back and his clear blue eyes showed me the passion, desire, lust, need, and the pleasure that only I could give him.

He was begging me to let him cum.

And I loved to watch him beg.

"Please…"

And there it was.

I picked up my pace, going faster, harder and then slower again.

I threw my head back in laughter when I heard him growl at me.

He felt so good inside me, so big, so thick, and so good.

He was incredibly fun to ride, torture, and make him beg.

I was slow, fast, soft, hard, raw, tender.

And he loved every second of it.

He sat up only to take my nipple with his talented tongue.

Yes, my cowboy always pleased me first with his tongue and long fingers.

He was such a southern gent.

But now… there was no gentleness.

No…

Now we were fucking.

Hard.

My hot-blooded cowboy always liked to be fucked hard.

I was the one fucking my cowboy hard today.

Hard and fast.

I rode him.

"That's it… Ye-fucking-haw!"

I rode my cowboy hard in the middle of a meadow today.

I controlled him, only me, for today.

oOoOoOo

The smell of leather saturated my senses.

My skin felt heated even though the room was cool.

I couldn't see, only hear and feel.

My hands were bound together above my head.

I was standing with my legs spread open by a metal bar.

I was spread for him.

He was a personal favorite.

He never intimidated me, he inspired only trust.

Today he was the tease, and I, his victim.

He owned me, I was his, completely.

And I hated and loved every single minute of it.

"My beautiful Swan," he murmured against my ear, his hot breath sending shivers through my spine. I could smell his musky scent, it was so intoxicating.

I was his prisoner, his submissive, his servant.

I was only his for the weekend.

"The colors, my Swan," he ordered from somewhere in the room.

Yes… the colors.

The color of the leather that bound my hands meant stop to all play; the color of his eyes meant to slow down all play; and the color of the walls in the room meant to speed up all play.

I always asked for things to speed up.

That was why he always asked for me.

I was his personal favorite as well.

A small hiss escaped my lips as I suddenly felt the sting of fur and leather against my backside.

I wasn't worried, he had asked to be as vocal as I wanted, but I knew he enjoyed me working up to my screams.

Again, he brought the leather down against the skin of my thighs and it felt like there was fire spreading through my veins as the waves of ecstasy invaded me completely.

He was a master with the fur and leather.

Tall, strong and fierce.

He was my master.

Only mine.

As I was his.

He didn't intimidate me. No, he inspired only trust in spite of his size.

It also helped that I was a sucker for his dimples.

Both sets of dimples.

I moaned as I felt the fur hit me closer to where I ached.

"Yes, my Swan. Feel it!"

He was always so focused on the task at hand.

I loved to watch him dominate me.

I was denied that pleasure today.

It didn't stop me from seeing him in my head: how he would stand tall and proud, his bare chest showing his taut muscles and his ripped jeans that hanged low on the V of his narrow hips.

His left hand would hold the fur flogger expertly in his grasp.

His right hand would be fisted and hanging tensely at his side.

He always started by holding himself back.

He always started with his fisted hand at his side.

I loved it when he finally had his hand spread wide.

He was a master of pain and pleasure.

He was my master and I his servant.

And I was his, only his, for the weekend.

oOoOoOo

I walked towards him.

I ran a hand through my hair trying to tame it a little, trying to look good for him.

I never really figured out why I cared.

I snuggled closer into my black wool coat as I felt the cold breeze pass over me.

I sat down on the stone bench in front of him.

He was looking up to the sky, a smile gracing his plum pink lips. He had a little bit of stubble over his square jaw, just like I liked it.

He was always trying to please me.

He was always worshipping me.

He was mine.

I was his.

Body, heart and soul.

"Love, how are you today?" I asked in a soft tone.

He didn't answer.

I never got an answer.

I closed my eyes and I could fill his lips over mine.

So soft and gentle.

I would try to pull him closer by the hair on the back of his neck.

He had such soft hair.

He loved it when I played with it.

"Stupid, copper hair…," he would mock when I told him how much I loved it.

He was so beautiful.

So painfully beautiful.

I felt a tear escape from the corner of my eyes.

I touched my lips trying to soothe the tingling that came after he kissed me every time.

There was no tingle this time.

There would never be a tingle again.

I opened my eyes as I watched him still looking up to the sky, his eyes shining with happiness.

He had the most expressive emerald green eyes.

I loved his eyes as much as I loved his hair.

"Sometimes I wonder if all you see are the eyes and hair, my love," he would say.

"It is your soul I see, dear heart," I would always answer.

"As I do, my love. You have the most beautiful soul," he would whisper in my ear.

It was his, only his.

My soul belonged to only him and no one else.

And he was mine.

But not anymore.

"My Lord, have mercy…."

I always asked for mercy.

He never listened.

I was still here.

And he was still there.

I stood up.

I touched the glass that covered his angelic face.

He was so happy.

He was so full of life.

Why did You have to take him from me?

I felt more tears escape my eyes.

I angrily wiped them away.

I was tired of the tears.

I was tired of this all consuming loneliness.

I just wanted to be his.

Only his.

One more time.

I dropped the white rose over where he was now lying.

Beautiful, cold and gone.

"It is yours, dear heart; my soul has always been only yours."

I let my words be carried by the wind.

Would he hear them?

I hoped so.

My only wish was for him to never see me.

I was no longer his love.

I was a shell of myself.

The real me left with him, to the heavens.

While I stayed in hell.

For as much as my soul belonged to him, my body was someone else's.

In fact, it belonged to many others.

"Goodbye, Edward."

I turned around and walked out never looking back.

I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket.

I looked at the message with indifference.

I knew what I had to do.

It was time for me to go back.

I would never be worshipped again.

He was the only one to ever worship me completely.

For my soul belonged to only him and no one else.

No one else.

oOoOoOo

"_When I was young I dreamed of growing old_

_Of what my life would mean to me_

_Would I have traveled down my chosen road_

_Or only wish that I could be."_

_-Kyrie Eleison by Mark Schultz_

oOoOoOo

_**Disclaimer: References to real people, places and groups are used fictitiously. This story is a work of fiction. Ms. Meyer owns Twilight and all of its characters, no copyright violation is intended.**_


	5. Entry 4  Emerald Tempest

Title of Story: Emerald Tempest

Song: Requiem for a Dream Remix by doryangraimusic

Characters: Bella and Edward

Summary: Bella's experience as she is consumed by all that is Edward.

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight

http:/www (dot)youtube(dot) com/watch?v=A72oe1y1i9s&feature=player_embedded#!

Here we go (press play):

**Emerald Tempest**

There is darkness, just darkness.

Neither smothering black nor soothing grey.

It does not weigh on me or pull me down.

I am not floating, yet it is a weightless darkness.

A weightless darkness that consumes me.

A creeping sense of neglect.

I see nothing.

No colors, shades nor hues.

Just darkness.

I hear nothing.

No words, no swish of movement, no murmurs.

Nothing.

I must still be living.

I must still be breathing.

Yet I cannot hear my own breath or feel the thump of my heart.

I cannot feel my own body.

Am I standing? Sitting?

Maybe I am floating, how else could I feel weightless?

I am not asleep.

It is neither a dream, nor a nightmare.

I feel nothing. I touch nothing.

Neither soft nor hard, rough nor smooth.

A complete void.

I sense nothing.

But that nothing. . .

That nothing . . . is him.

He looms.

Near, though far.

Out of my reach.

That is, if I could out to reach him

Right now, I'm not even sure I can move.

I don't try.

Anticipation.

I become gradually aware of myself. Not of my surroundings, just me.

Just me . . . and him.

My chest feels heavy. My heart is weighing me down. Lead.

Then I sense change.

I am pulsing.

Throbbing.

There is a rhythm, but not one that I can understand.

The inflection of the rhythm entrances me.

The melody conveys a wordless prose laced with emotions.

I am trembling.

I'm not even sure I want to understand my own body's reactions.

I do know that he is the cause of the melodic pulse.

He must be close.

Closer.

Closer still . . .

. . . he is upon me, invading me.

Submerging my being, my soul, in all that he is.

He enters me, enters my soul, confessing his sins.

Piercing yet soothing, he yanks me into the depths of his midnight.

His torment overwhelms me.

The nothing becomes everything.

I am bombarded.

A tempest of sensations.

Bursts of beryl and violet.

Waves of cobalt.

Azure crashing.

Peaks of white capping the livid emerald sea.

A fluttering breath of frost across the back of my neck.

An icy chill penetrates my skin.

I feel my body react.

A shiver runs up my spine.

I am shaking, but not in fear.

Nothing touches me, yet I am being moved.

It intensifies.

The movement sends me spinning, but I am not dizzy.

I am whirling, but not nauseous.

My body is being wrestled in all directions.

Stretched and released.

Pushed back and forth.

Up then down.

It doesn't hurt.

I do not cry out in pain.

My chest tightens.

My heart is on overdrive.

It is as if I am truly feeling for the first time.

Everything I have lived until now has been a shadow of reality.

I feel what he has felt, and what he feels.

I embrace it.

The tragedy, the tragedy that is his existence.

His profound, torturous pain.

A violet wreckage in the emerald tempest.

I want the swell to take me with him.

I want to be submerged.

I want to drown.

I want to let go.

I do not know how he does this to me.

I do know that now, as the pulsing continues, I want this.

I will not push it away.

I want to feel it.

I need it.

I will not turn away from it . . . from him.

I want to lose myself.

I want to let myself be lost.

I know that I have a need to be inundated by this. . . by him.

Transcend all of it.

I want to relinquish, relinquish myself . . . to him.

Then slowly he pulls back.

I still.

I hear myself whimper at the loss.

He pulls further back.

I resurface.

The distance brings me back to the void.

Without him, I feel my soul crack and break into pieces.

Slowly the shards scatter.

I need him to hold me together.

Yet, he seems further away…

A sense of self-awareness returns.

As lovers open their eyes once a passionate kiss has been broken.

Distance allows for the choice to be mine.

He will not force this on me.

The distance lets me take stock, I am confident of myself.

I want to devote myself to him.

To fully embrace his pain, his burden.

I cannot let him continue like this.

I will no longer allow it.

His suffering.

His desolation.

I will not let his turmoil be his isolation.

This glimpse into the void shows me everything.

It is time.

Time for me to make the final decision.

Time for us to suffer the burden together.

My body knows I have decided.

My heart knows I have decided.

He has collected the shards of my soul.

Whole again, my soul knows I have decided.

I am unequivocally his.

He aligns with me, finally fully revealing himself to me.

He is here, with me.

Neither hiding nor withdrawing from me.

Not lingering.

He is consuming, consuming me.

All I have to offer, I willingly surrender to him.

Then Edward takes me.

Takes me to be his forever. . .

. . . I breathe no more.


End file.
